Agoraphobia
by J S Arnold
Summary: Being afraid of what waits outisde her bedroom
1. Chapter 1

Jessica Arnold

**Agoraphobia**

I wish I could feel safe here, but I don't. If anyone asked me right out what it was that I feared, I would know what to say to them; I would tell them exactly why I expect to feel coldness spreading beneath my night dress.

Of course I don't believe in monsters, I would proclaim - how could they scare me, I would ask. What did they have to threaten me with?

_There is no such thing. They are not real. They cannot harm me._

Of course the night time noises do not scare me - they do not get louder, do not bend the floorboards with their weight. They cannot ever get inside, and cannot ever touch me.

But the shadow I fear comes not from the night, the darkness not the trees casting a shadow. The shadow that I fear stands outside my bedroom door, waiting for Momma to go to sleep.

_I hear him breathing_.

The noise that I fear is not the tapping of rain against my window. The noise that I fear is the practiced patter of an impatient foot against the floor.

I have always been afraid of the darkness outside my window, but the night does not scare me, not anymore.

Bill does, he waits outside my door, he makes sure she will not wake up until morning.

No, the darkness does not scare me anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Agoraphobia**

Chapter 2

He watches me from outside, in the hallway. I feel the weight of his stare as if it is a palpable force holding me still. I stand facing away from him but still I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I am not afraid of the trees and the bushes in daylight – they do not scare me half as much as they had just hours before. No, now I cannot see their clasping fingers stretched out across the floor, wanting to stroke me.

I cannot hear the sound of the night – the sound of owls, of other creatures scurrying in the bushes outside my window. I cannot hear rain tapping on the pane like nails on glass. I cannot hear anything other than my own breathing and his.

He is watching me, like an owl, a predator waiting for his chance to pounce. His eyes send a thrill down my body as if it is ice.

"Let me whisper something to you, my dear," he purrs, stepping closer, "a secret."

I cannot move, and I wonder what is wrong. It feels as if some outside force keeps me still. Agoraphobia, I am scared.

He is behind me now, with his hands around me. He waits for me to scream. I do not. I cannot.

"There are things in this world," he pauses, moving a piece of hair from behind my ears and playing with it between his fingers, "things out there," he motions with the hand that does not hold me still to outside the window, "evil things, _dangerous_ things." I feel his mouth at my neck, his breath condensing on my cheek. "I'm _preparing _you, my dear. I'm your father."

My heart beat quickens as he shuts the door.

***Bill ((Him)) is not her real father. He is her step father.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Agoraphobia**

Chapter 3

The door is closed now and I know that it is too late to run, to escape. The thought of being trapped terrifies me and I can feel my heart racing inside my chest – my breathing accelerating.

He watches me from the shadows – I can taste him in my mouth, on my tongue, at the back of my throat. I am afraid to look up from beneath my covers less he be there staring at me, with the wicked glint in his eyes.

I know that he nears me now, and I know this even when I cannot see his movements; the floorboards creek under his weight.

_Ma'_, I think, _ma' please…._

But my mother does not come and my breathing grows ragged as his footsteps near.

He is standing beside the bed now, a smile on his face. I do not need to peek from under my covers; his expression is always pleased.

I hold my breath as his hand crawls in with me. It scurries across the white sheets to my sweating body. It touches me gently under the covers

_Somebody, please…_

An angel wakes from her sleep and calls his name.


	4. Chapter 4

Agoraphobia

4

It is his right hand that I feel on my body, and it is his left that holds my jaw tight. I cannot scream. He touches me roughly – eager to get his fill before the night is over, and I know that I bruise easy. I should know what to expect by now.

He holds me firmly because she has opened the door and brought with her enough light to see.

"Bill?" a voice, as sweet as warm honey, is what I hear from the doorway. She is standing with a flash light in her hands, as if she is going to search the darkness for the reason behind her waking up so early. I know that she has heard my silent pleas.

His hand pauses at my chest and I know that he feels my heart racing wildly inside. Even through my nightdress, it beats too hard to ignore.

Do I feel glad that he is finally going to be discovered, after all these years of abuse and torture?

Or do I feel weary of what he is going to do next?

"I heard Isabelle coughing," he lies easily, "I came to see if she were alright."

He holds me tightly against him and removes his hand from my chest. Instead he has it on my face, on my bruised cheek. He smiles at her.

She looks at me quizzically – and I wonder how much she can see in the set of my mouth.

A tear drop escapes from my eye and splashes on his calloused skin. He brings his finger tips to his mouth and licks them.

She takes a step into the room, her expression the one that I thought I would never see again.

"Can I have a word with you, Bill," she told him flatly, her eyes narrowed, "in private?

His expression darkened but he followed her outside my room.

I cannot hear them talking, but I hear the sound when he hits her and she falls to the floor.

"Momma?" I say into the darkness, and there is no reply.


End file.
